They lay together, savouring the contact of their bodies, hands gripping each other's as America lay across England.
"America…"
"Hm?"
"How… how did you know I wouldn't reject you? I mean," America shifted so that he was face to face with the blushing Brit, "How did you know I loved you back?" England blushed at the statement and turned his head away. Question time. America was silent for a moment but then spoke in a quiet voice.
"I didn't… I mean I've loved you since after… my Independence…" A jolt ran through England's body upon hearing the word. America gripped his hands tighter and continued, "But still…"
The nation paused but then smiled a little, causing England to turn back to face him.
"I'm not that great at reading the atmosphere…"
England's eyes widened as he understood what the other was saying, "He…"
America continued, cutting England off, "To be completely honest, I never had anything planned for the night; I was always planning on surprising you later after your party. Huh, well I guess that's what I had planned… But I…" America frowned at this point, smiling sadly, "I got scared. Very un-Hero like… but at the last minute I panicked because I didn't know how you felt about me. I didn't want to get rejected or hurt you by… being blunt, like always. I mean, you always did a good job of, well, you acted like you hated me. And I didn't know if you still thought of me as your brother or… Then I got a call, and he told me you did love me, so I came here as fast as possible. Th-that's why arrived so late. Hehe, sorry Iggy…"
"You stupid git…"
America winced as England let go of his hands. He'd hurt him again…
"Of course I bloody love you…" America blinked in surprise as England cupped his face and pulled him down for a fierce kiss, tongues battling until America let England take charge. They broke apart, blushing and panting lightly. America smiled and sat up, England following suit to hold him again.
"Is this enough?" America broke the comfortable silence as they held each other.
"Hm…" England nodded, eyes closed as he rested his head on America's shoulder, breathing softly against the nation's neck and occasionally leaning in to place a line of soft kisses along his jaw.
"Heh, you sure?" England shuddered as America moved away, the cold hitting him.
"Wha?" England blushed as America bent down, spreading his knees out. Just the sight of America gazing up at him between his legs was enough to send England over the edge. No-one had ever looked at him like that before: the crystal blue eyes were filled with apprehension, seeking confirmation, but also sparkled with lust. No-one had ever wanted England before…
England moaned as America ran his tongue over his erection then swallowed him completely, bobbing his head up and down the other's length. England gripped the bed sheets and fought hard to stop himself bucking his hips. How did he know exactly what to do? America gagged slightly as England grabbed his hair, forcing his head further down, but continued, humming in pleasure at the sounds his lover was making. His lover…
"Ah… America…!" England moaned as the blonde stopped. Surely he wasn't going to tease him like this?
America took his mouth away, pushing Texas up the bridge of his nose as he mumbled, "I have a name: the one you gave me…"
America leaned up to England, wrapping his hand around his cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip.
"Use my name, Arthur."
England gasped as America moved his hand up and down, squeezing slightly.
"A-Alfred…" England moaned as the American increased his pace, kissing him sloppily on the mouth. He let the sensation wash over him as America showered his neck with wet kisses, creating more marks.
"Alfred! I can't…"
"I know." America only pumped faster, hearing England's ragged breathing. He was close too. If Arthur didn't stop making those noises then he would…
England shuddered and his vision swam white for a moment, crying out in ecstasy. He panted heavily, senses returning, blushing as he saw America licking his hand clean.
America smirked when he saw England staring. He raised an eyebrow, "Good?"
England just nodded and pulled America close, breathing softly into his ear.
"I can't hear you Arthur. What do you want?"
"Git…" England hissed at the teasing American who only looked at him sweetly. Oh, how he hated those puppy eyes… "I want you, Alfred…" England frowned slightly and looked away.
"Flip over, then…"
America tried not to hesitate as he inserted one finger into the older man, and then another, stretching the tight walls. England groaned as America added a third finger.
"Bloody uncomfortable…" That was putting it mildly as England winced, face buried into a pillow and toes curling. But it did feel good…
America pushed a finger further in, hitting a spot that caused England to arch his back and moan.
"There?"
"Do that again." England panted and moaned as America pushed again, spreading his other two fingers out. America eased his fingers out earning a reluctant moan from the man underneath him and readied himself. And then stopped.
"Oh crap…"
"What's wrong?" England looked up worriedly at the nation who was staring at him uncertainly, deep red spreading across his cheeks. "Alfred, what is it?"
"Uh…" The Hero hung his head low. How was he going to phrase this without sounding totally un-awesome? He coughed. Peeking up he could see that England was still staring at him, though not angry but confused.
"Um, well, I forgot to bring- I mean I don't have any…uh…" England merely blinked. Did America have to spell it out?
"Oh." America looked up at the sound of England's obviously annoyed voice.
England was pouting slightly, brows furrowed in annoyance. America moved as England turned around and sat up.
"You're hopeless, you know that," England sighed, caressing America's face lightly, "Bloody hopeless." England kissed the shocked nation, licking his lips for permission. Confused, America let England's tongue roam inside his mouth. Okay, so Arthur wasn't mad at him?
England broke the kiss and lay back down on the bed, eyebrow raised, waiting. "Well?"
"What? But…" America blinked.
"It's fine, Alfred."
America didn't want to hurt the Brit, but he could be so stubborn sometimes. He trusted England. Hooking England's legs over his shoulders he slowly pushed himself inside of England.
England moaned as America started thrusting slowly, pressing down on England's shoulders, pinning him to the bed. He winced at the harsh, tight friction caused by the lack of any lubrication, but pain soon gave way to pleasure as America continued thrusting at an even pace, leaning down to kiss England briefly. England's hand roamed up to America's toned body, feeling the tense muscles in his back. He ran his fingers down the younger's spine, digging his nails slightly to earn little extra moans from America.
"Al… Bloody–" His speech was lost to a low moan as America struck his prostate dead on.
America smirked and doubled his pace, slamming into England again, earning another cry. He panted, thrusting faster moving one hand off of England's shoulder to stroke his erection. His hand moved fluidly up and down England's length, wet with pre-cum and strong fingers wrapped around, squeezing and stroking softly. The touch drove England to completion as he covered America's hand again, the younger blonde following with a groan. Panting, he fell on top of England in a sweaty embrace. Once again he licked his hand clean, almost making a show of it as he watched the red form on England's cheeks.
"That mustn't taste very good…" England mumbled finding himself quite tired under the pressing weight of the warm American on top of him. America returned with a look that said 'it tastes better than your cooking', but England couldn't find the energy to protest or start an argument. All the arguments they'd had in the past seemed stupid now.
"Alfred…"
"Oh, yeah…" America withdrew from England, allowing the older nation to stretch his legs out with a relieved sigh, and rolled over to lie next to England, wrapping an arm around his chest and drawing him close to his body.
"How was it? And don't say 'spiffing' or anything like that."
"We stopped saying that quite a while ago Al…" England smiled tiredly and removed the arm draping over his chest, bringing America's wrist up to his lips to kiss the smooth skin tenderly, running his tongue over the blood vessels and bones.
"I don't know… you're old and British…" America murmured into England's shoulder kissing the skin up along his neck.
"You're American…" England furrowed his brows as he felt America move his hand down away from his lips and to rest on his hip stroking his side softly and occasionally creeping to the inside of his thigh.
"But I'm a Hero, right?"
"Mm." Waves of drowsiness swept over the lovers as they snuggled closer to one another.
"Good night Artie, love you…"
"Good night Alfred," England twisted his head round to touch his lips tenderly against America's, watching his former colony drift off, "I love you too…"
England awoke slowly slipping in and out of consciousness before he found the effort to sit himself up.
"Morning Al…fred…" His mood was shattered instantly as he gazed at the empty space beside him. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, still opening them to find himself alone. Closing his eyes England strained his ears to pick up any sound of the American.
"This is no time to be hiding under the bed or anything… Alfred?" England flicked away the tears that were rapidly reforming and lay back down on his side, staring at where America should have been lying next to him. Another good five minutes of him lying there letting the tears slide down his face without change and England sat back up again, wiping his face using his arm.
He sniffed, "Damn it… what was that then?" Swinging his legs over the bed, the gentleman found his dressing gown, slipping into it and grateful for its warmth. He had been so sure last night was real. He had felt the bed move beneath them, had heard America's laboured breaths in time with his, he could still feel the pain when he moved, shuffling out of his room and down the stairs. Had they not said 'I love you' before falling asleep? Was that just some sort of horrible fantasy? Well, it certainly had felt like a dream at the time, America just turning up like that…
England closed his eyes tightly, trying not to rub them again or they would get more irritated. He walked carefully, shivering as his feet made contact with the cold floor and reached the bottom of the stairs.
"…I will not cry, not again…" England scolded himself firmly as he looked away from the front door, the very same that he had opened to America the night before. Eyes glued to the ground, England ran a hand through his tangled hair, stepping through the open doorway towards the kitchen. He didn't ponder on the strangeness of the door being open, as he always closed the doors after leaving a room, especially before going to sleep. Last night had been no exception; after cleaning, all England had done was go to the study. He hadn't been near the kitchen.
Bumping into something he twisted his foot awkwardly and the Briton slipped, only to be caught as an arm quickly wound its way around his thin waist, drawing him close to a warm body.
"Woah, careful."
England blinked and looked up to meet a pair of sapphire eyes looking down at him, sparkling with warmth. England was speechless as America helped him stand on his own, grabbing his hand and kissing it lightly. He stretched his other arm out to the side, yawning slightly as he then adjusted his glasses.
"What's wrong?" America looked at the shocked nation curiously, "Something bothering you?"
"Uh…"
"Yeah, I just got up to make some coffee, I'm surprised you have some here, and remembered you liked tea, but I don't really know how to make it so I was just going to come upstairs to ask you– Hey, what's wrong?" America tilted his head as he spotted a solitary tear running down England's face and the sore eyes. "Have you been crying again?" America pulled England close to his bare chest, stroking his back through the soft fabric of the gown.
"P-put some clothes on, damn it!" England stuttered, blushing as America pressed his head gently beside his collar bone.
"At least I'm wearing pants. You, one the other hand," America smiled sneakily, eyes sparkling, "don't appear to have anything on under here…"
"Git…" England blushed furiously, pushing away from the American and folding his arms over his chest. "And actually, you're wearing trousers… well, jeans…"
America merely raised an eyebrow and laughed at his lover's futile attempt to look angry. "Come on Artie, what would you like?"
England smiled as America snaked his arm around his waist and they walked over to the counter.
"Earl Grey, of course."
And it is complete! Ugh, this chapter took a while. And the smut is bad, please ignore that. Please favourite and review and tell me what you think~ :)